[Hōkago Tea Time covers the Art of Noise in one of its darker periods; ca. early Qiyue (July), 291 ASC]

The midday sky was grey and purpleAt least it wasn't blueI want the sky to be the way I am and what I doFor I have been a lost and lonely sailor on your seaRun aground by trusting signals you were sending me

The streets are filled with empty facesNothing here is newIt's just the same in other places I have journeyed toI was the first across the water, last upon the landI walked out of the silver mines, my pockets full of sand

It's not my life in those old picturesThe ones you threw awayFor I was always someone else and always far awayA-walking in the darkest places where the mission meetsA-waiting for the ground to open up beneath my feet